Royal beatdown for ultimate eternity
by Biohazards
Summary: Towns will be levelled, blood will be shed, societies will collapse, conspiracies shall be built, worlds will be torn asunder, and even existence itself will be rewritten. This is the story of two extraordinary people, and their tale will be equal parts cynical, satirical, historical, tyrannical, and maybe even a little whimsical. Give it a shot, the prologue's all nice and short
1. Trailer

**Welcome to my second real project. This fic is a story that's been swimming in my mind for a very long time, and I figured, hey- why not finally publish it?**

**I don't really know what else to say now... Another warning I guess?**

**WARNING: This is a pretty messed up fanfic that will involve a whole lot of blood. And maybe _some _sex if I ever feel like it, but mostly blood.**

**By the way, this one is less focused on the technical side of things as compared to my moemon fic.**

**xxx**

Somewhere far, far away.

It was once upon a November.

In the midst of the cooling air, a boy sat in a park. A handheld video game console was being played with in his hands.

Perhaps it was because of the temperamentally shifting air stimulating his mind. Or maybe because of an earlier event unlocked in his game. Maybe it was even because of the gentleman with the book next to him. Or perhaps it was the combination of everything that happened on that day, and the many days before it. But regardless the cause,

It all culminated into a spark being born into his mind, an idea formed. He was suddenly inspired.

Such began the oncoming series of events. From an otherwise mundane event- at least 'mundane' in the eyes of those who don't know of what's to come.

The wheels have started to spin.

The end of the world as we know it. And...

The birth of an entirely new one.

**xxx**

And in an entirely different place.

Someone takes two steps forward, and one step back.

What an odd sight this was.

Though confounding as it was, there stood a machamp and a girl.

One had fallen onto one knee, reduced to nary a bloody mess on the bloodbathed tiles. While opposite to him, the girl stood victorious, with her arms crossed proudly.

To most who understood the strength of such a ferocious four-armed beast, the picture painted by this scene was downright surreal. Two individuals bathed in blood. A hulking beast bent over one knee and weak, and a small young girl opposite who seemed to be completely unharmed.

The young girl walks over to the beaten bloody machamp. Despite being only half his height, and a third of his weight, she manages to look down on him with an air of clear superiority permeating around her. Her blood-stained face shows an impassive expression.

"Well #5? Does this result please you? Did it answer any of the questions you were wondering? Or perhaps you were actually deluded enough into thinking this would've ended any differently?" She asks casually, as if she was merely asking a friend about the weather.

The girl brushes her ashen bangs behind her ears, revealing her bright yellow eyes. In any other situation, perhaps those eyes would have appeared beautiful, calm, or maybe even mysterious.

But with the rest of her face covered in blood, those eyes seemed like they belonged to a demon.

And maybe they did.

"I do hope you've learnt your lesson #5" She comments, now using a more commanding tone than earlier, "this poor excuse of a rebellion of yours must be taken as a lesson- not just by you, but also by all the others who were foolish enough to rally under your lost cause."

It was then when she grabs him by the spines on his scalp, and forcefully tosses him backwards.

"Now go #5. Engrave this lesson into the knowledge of the other survivors,

"All who dare stand in my way, I will crush them personally."

**xxx**

Two people, two events. One ordinary, and another one extraordinary.

There stood two extremely powerful people. One boy and one girl.

Their fates intertwined with that of the whole world's, but where exactly shall they take it?

The path forward is uncertain. But shall we tread them anyway?

**xxx**

**And that completed the prologue. More or less. It's short- really short, but is hopefully sufficient enough in fulfilling it's purpose. Have I managed to convey the general mood for all of you yet?**

**If not, just expect this fanfic to have some seriously lemony narrating, mature content, and some pretty unsympathetic leads.**


	2. Volume 1: Track 01

The largest house in Celadon City is also known as the home of the almighty nuclear-energy tycoon Ulrich Hartmann.

This intimidating giant of a man was equal parts intelligent as he was large. He was also equal parts cunning as he was selfish. Suffice to say, Ulrich Hartmann was a dangerous person that you would _never _want to have against you.

At the moment though, Ulrich Hartmann was currently sitting in an overly lavish dinner table, that lies inside his overly posh living room, that lied in the deepest part of his overly extravagant manor.

As the mighty head of the family, Ulrich Hartmann takes his place at the absolute edge of the rectangular table. In the complete opposite of him, sitting nearly 10 meters away from Ulrich was his eldest son, Lukas Hartmann.

Lukas was nowhere near as gigantic as his father, if anything, Lukas' physical stature was very lean, twiggy even.

"How goes the situation in Veilstone?" Ulrich asks his son, his voice as deep and booming as always. A natural baritone behind it that can only beat by James Earl Jones.

"I-It's going well father." Responds Lukas shakily, he was absolutely terrified by his father.

"Is that so?" He asks, "Because I have been hearing rumors, Lukas. Rumors of _you-"_

**BANG**

Ulrich's accusation is cut short by the sound of the living room door's being slammed open. Just as he was planning how to dispose of this indubitable nuisance that _dared _interrupt _him_, he realizes that the person who had opened the doors was a pale girl.

A small girl, with short ash blonde hair so pale in shade they looked white. Her skin was also very pale in color, almost to the point of seeming albino. Her eyes seemed to shine in a shade of yellow. She wore a pure white one-piece along with a pair of house-use slippers. Plastered on her face, she also wore a very audacious seeming smile.

"Arabelle..." Ulrich mutters under his breath.

She was his youngest, and also his only daughter. A young girl of only fourteen years of age.

She gracefully sits herself on one of the chairs on the dinner table, before addressing her father.

"Good evening father." She says politely, if not a little venomously.

"You are as rude as always, I cannot even find it in me to be angry anymore."

"Oh? Are you chastising me for my behavior father?" she asks, "because if you are, I do remember you promising me the freedom of just that for as long as I keep my grades up. You _are _honoring your promise are you not father? For I also remember you once saying that an _honorable man _honors his promises- or are you telling me you are not an honorable man father?"

"Hmph. Early graduation mitigates our agreement, you are not even inschool anymore." He states calmly despite her provocations, "I also do not want to hear of honor from such a traitorous daughter. Dare I ask, my dear, about the rumors concerning you and the Smiths?"

"Hmmmm? Are you talking about that arranged marriage of ours, oh _dear _father? Would you deem it an acceptable answer if I tell you I simply did not _love _him?"

"Your opinion does not matter," Ulrich says, his temper slowly getting the best of him, "your father knows best."

"Did you also '_know best' _at the time when you shipped poor brother Klein to rehab under grounds of a _supposed_ case of drug abuse? One that proved to be a mere misunderstanding might I add?"

And so the exchange of flowery insults between the two continue on. Poor Lukas could only shrink in the wake of the verbal battle between these two behemoths. Oh how he _loathed _these family gatherings. At the moment he could only be thankful that neither mother nor Klein could attend the so-called gathering.

He truly _hated _his family. Nothing but murderers, tyrants and backstabbers as far as the eye could go.

"Enough!" Ulrich bellows out, silencing both Arabelle's retorts and Lukas' trail of thought.

"What is this I hear of you calling off our agreement with the Sylph?!"

"_Agreement_? Is that what you call it?" Scoffs Arabelle, "A political marriage is what it is! Everybody know that's what you plan to do with our '_agreement'_.

"You plan on using _me _as leverage into taking Sylph as your own! You _know _they can't refuse, you _know _that once we become a _so-called _family, you'll be free to buy the rest of their stocks!"

"That is not why I am angry! The agreement with the Sylph can be replaced, what I _am _angry about is the fact that you're abandoning your responsibilities as a Hartmann for the sake of chasing after some pipe dream!"

Ulrich's voice having escalated to a peak, he leaves a resounding echo that travels throughout the whole manor. Maybe even throughout the town. His voice had left an imprint of such intense rage that the entire living room is left completely silent.

If only for a moment.

"...I take it that I do not have your permission?" Asks the haughty daughter softly.

"No."

"...And should I do so without your permission?"

"You will be disowned, you will be hunted down, and you shall pay for your disrespect."

"I see..." she answers simply, her face completely unreadable. "That's fine."

"Excuse me?"

"For you to go that far..." She trails off to an all-knowing smirk, "That means you believe me to have a chance of succeeding. It means you believe I am capable of growing into a threat. A threat to _you_, oh dear _father_, and to this _kingdom _you've built for yourself.

"Hahahahahahaaah!" She breaks into shrill laughter,

"Enjoy it while it lasts father- no, enjoy it while it lasts _Ulrich_! Enjoy your kingdom while you still have it!"

"Heeeheehaaaahahahahahah!"

And with that, the room is once again assaulted by a large slam that signals the exit of the only daughter. Even after she's gone, the sound of her crazed laughter still carries itself all the way to the dinner table.

"...Hmph. Have it your way." Remarks Ulrich, before going back to his meal.

Lukas on the other hand, was absolutely _freaking the fuck out_- even if he did a good job of not showing it. The earlier outburst of his younger sister truly cemented his opinion about his family, the Hartmanns.

He _loathed _the Hartmanns. They were all murderers, tyrants, backstabbers,

Or completely batshit insane.

**xxx**

They don't understand- none of them do, and none of them ever will.

They were all beneath her, each and everyone of them. The mindless masses should all prostrate themselves before her, everything should adress her with nothing less of reverence. She was sheer perfection- of the closest thing to such a thing, she was the most superior of all things.

Or at least, that's what Arabelle thought of herself.

If the ego's of humans could be measured in numbers, hers would be somewhere around 5-10 Kilonazis.

Calling her a case of mere god complex would be akin to calling the sun's core merely 'hot', or calling the size of the universe merely 'large'.

It simply did not do her justice.

Now that that's been established though,

What oh what shall our darling little Arabelle do now? How will she make it now that her father- the source of all her original power? What does a spoiled little brat knows about the world?

Nothing, duh.

Luckily. Arabelle is no spoiled little brat.

For all her talk, she can very well back it up.

**xxx**

_Elsewhere, at a later time_

The soft sound of carpeting being crushed beneath heels echoes throughout the lavish hotel room.

Arabelle, being the source of the sound, couldn't help but pace continously in a circle, one hand on her chin as she thought deeply, and completely disregard to how much she was wearing out her glamorous footwear.

The plan had moved earlier than she had expected. Yesterday's events also proved another inconvenience for her plan.

Simply put, all the gears that were originally created to put her plan to motion had quite _literally _imploded from the inside.

She needed replacement gears... She needed them soon. Father had already cut off her funding, at the moment she's making through with nothing but savings and poor blood money.

Her original plan was to leave town under the guise of a pokemon journey, escape father's network, slowly bolster her forces, and then initiate a hostile takeover.

But with yesterday's so called 'rebellion' she had no pokemon to journey _with_. She did still have a _few _but they were far too strong by default and thus she lacked the badge clearance to handle them.

That is to say, in the _legal _sense.

In search of a change of pace, or maybe even a spark of inspiration, Arabelle looks out into the shining city of Celadon's nightlife. She watches the beautiful view before her with little to no interest.

But then, something catches her eye. She sees a suspicious figure in a dark alley.

With her near perfect vision, Arabelle could tell from that distance that the figure was wearing patchwork clothes and was pushing a grocery cart that had a blanket covering it.

Normally, anyone- including her, would simply brush off that figure as 'just another piece of human trash' in the underbelly of Celadon's darkside. A hobo, if you will.

But what business would a hobo have wearing a brand watch in mint condition?

**xxx**

"I knew it," muttered the pale demoness into the night.

Near her, the decapitated body of a middle aged man in patchwork clothing lied, blood rushing out of his open neck. Held by the corpse was a SPAS shotgun,

And used bullet casings scattered around him.

But really, all those things are of no consequence, it's already been established time and time again that the only daughter of the Hartmann family is very prone to having blood splattered around her.

Regardless of the corpse and the demon princess, something else was also in the alley with them, something valuable that was in due need of mentioning.

It was the man's grocery cart. But without the blanket over it, you could see that the cart was filled to the brim with large cylindrical containers.

Arabelle takes one of said containers and places it on the ground. She then twists the top of the container and pulls it off.

Inside the container was an egg. A large one the size of an adult head, with green spots around it. Namely,

it was a pokemon egg.

"Hahahah... Thank you for your donation sir, I shall _gladly _make _very good use _of them." she says to herself, a wicked smile forming itself on her face.

"Oh hail the queen~ Prostrate yourselves before her~ Beg for your life! Wish for release from your futile existence~!" Arabelle, an original song of hers made only for herself.

"Inferior~ Pathetic~ Futile~~!"

Though combat ability aside, the Hartmann princess' musical abilities were truly _atrocious_. Be glad that a written medium does not come with vocal capabilities,

Else you would either be clawing your ears out, or laughing yourselves to death. Needless to say that neither would end well for you.

**xxx**

_Several days later_

Much time has passed and still not a single one of her eggs have hatched. She just needed one- any one of them, for a free ticket out of town.

She was getting tired of fighting her father's assassins. At first it was fun, the occasionally exceptional assassin was exciting even, but at some point the whole debacle simply got boring.

She just wanted out of the town now. She wasn't sure her funds could even last one more day in this expensive hotel.

She couldn't wait to get her trainer card already- as well as those free stays at the pokemon center, and medical care too!

Free stuff! To her, the concept was so foreign, and thusly, exciting!

As if in response to her excitement, as if telling her that it was now time to receive that which she had been waiting for so eagerly, one of the egg containers beeped.

And right after the beep, the container suddenly spreads apart, breaking itself open like a blooming flower. Steam blows in all directions as it does so, slightly obscuring the object that was coming into view.

With the suite's air conditioning, the steam dissipates rapidly, and when it does...

...There's a pokemon egg.

Wait, what?

-Oh wait! the egg's moving! It's cracking! I think it's about to hatch soon!

...Ah!

All the while, I forgot to mention that Arabelle was watching all of this quite stoically. ...Hmm, there you go. The miracles of life do not seem to do much for her, as it would seem based on her severe _lack _of a reaction. Truly, nothing less is to be expected of the pale demoness.

Her yellow eyes only seemed to scrutinize the splitting egg, and whatever was going to come out of it. She had no idea of course, it wasn't like the containers were labeled or anything.

Slowly, something begins to emerge from the egg. Only slightly at first, but as time drags, more of the creature continues to reveal itself until finally-

**xxx**

**I would like to say something before I end this chapter,**

**I absolutely _love _Arabelle. Out of all the characters I've ever given birth to (lol) she's undeniably my favorite. You haven't seen enough of her to understand this yet, but I think she's just awesome incarnate.  
**

**And on a side note, that sure is _some _cliffhanger huh? I bet some of you are just _dying _to know what's hatching out of that egg now.**


	3. Volume 2: Track 01

[Somewhere far, far away.]

It was hot outside.

It was _very _hot outside.

That in mind, a certain twenty-somethings year old male couldn't be more relieved that he worked indoors. With the assistance of air conditioning, even working in the dead of summer was no problem. That is, if you could even call lying on a sofa on a monday morning, 'work'.

"Hey, how do you solve this one?" asks a differet guy, this one looking like he's _actually _working by the mere fact that he was currently using a computer with complicated programming words on it.

"Hmm?" regards the twenty-something year old, looking at the problem on the computer screen with his peripheral vision.

"...I don't understand any of this." answers the twenty-something year old.

The younger college student face palms at his answer. Afterwards he take a deep breath to recompose himself, and then attempts to rephrase his question,

"...How do we get the program to emulate protocol B, while at the same time _not _changing the results of variables D to G."

"Oh that, that's easy. Wait a sec," the twenty-something guy pulls out a notepad and begins to scribble away, doodles of a complex math formula soon taking up most of the first page. Then the second, and the third. Until finally,

"It's impossible. Variables C, E, and F are already tied into the final answer, which is to say- you won't be able to trigger protocol B at all."

"What?! Then how am I supposed to-"

"Thank goodness it's easy to tweak though. Just change a bit of the equation for functions that involve variables C, change from using 'implications', into negation formula and add a second constant- 12. That should stop F and E from being tied together."

"But thats-"

"Afterwards, you just make a new protocol- let's call it quasi B, because it primarily holds the characteristics of protocol B, and a bit of AGH- not in equal amounts of course, if you could count similarities in numerics at all..." he trails off, "...or something along those lines, I dunno!"

It was then that twenty-something guy pulls out a handheld video game console out of his pocket, and starts to play with it.

"Now excuse me, I'm trying to make a synergy where you can both use a medic and a sniper duo party and still beat fallen saviour."

The college student guy was left speechless. He never could've even thought of that solution, a _new _protocol?! And he figured out the equation that quickly?!

The college guy couldn't help feeling a bit impressed- no, _more _than that. He was downright awestruck. It was a shame that twenty-something year old couldn't understant programming language, or else the progress of the project would've gotten a lot further by now.

"AAAAAARGH! He fucking killed me again!" twenty-something guy suddenly screams,

If only he was a little less annoying, thought college looking guy.

**xxx**

Somewhere along the lines,

The very same twenty-something year old we saw earlier is seen once again. This time wearing an expensive dress suit and brand shoes. Even though his hair was a mess, he gave off the feel of someone very dignified.

...Damn. I was just about to beat that guy with the mega tyranittar, he thinks to himself whilst walking into out from the elevator inside of a tall office building.

As usual, he thought, the building somehow smelt of ink, caffeine, hypocrisy, nepotism, capitalism,

...burnt toast? why the hell is there the smell of burnt toast in an office building?

Well whatever, it didn't really matter to twenty-something year old guy (from now on abbreviated as TSYOG). So he ignores the curious scent and continues to travel down several hallways.

He finally comes to a stop at a certain office door, one that had 'master of all existence' clumsily written on the nameplate with a permanent marker. TSYOG knocks on the door a few times, before hearing a soft 'come in' and going inside.

The second he steps in, the piercing glare of a tall, blonde career woman very nearly froze him where he stood. The sheer intensity of her glare sent shivers down TSYOG's spine, and almost made him fall to his knees and beg for mercy or something.

"...Hello ma'am."

"You traitor." she says coldly.

"Please don't address me with such a _hurtful _word milady, I'm only doing what I think is right."

At that comment, the blonde lady raises an eyebrow.

"...What _I _think is right." he repeats.

"That's a shrewd way of thinking."

"Umm, thank you?"

The blonde 'master of all existence' slowly stands from her desk and approaches TSYOG,

"Gina...?"

And out of nowhere, she hugs him.

"You're a sick bastard." she says, in a tone that's far too soft to sound insulting.

"...I know, and I'm sorry." he replies.

He hugs her back. A silence falls on the room, something very rarely experienced by the pair when the two were together. It was a moment that would prove memorable- for both of them, whether they wanted to or not. And in the boy's case, despite _not _wanting to remember this event.

"I hope you fail miserably."

"That won't happen."

"I bet you'll come crawling back, in tears at best."

"That's unlikely."

"I promise you this'll all fall apart."

"That's highly improbable."

"Just shut the fuck up."

"...Right."

**xxx**

A certain day was slowly looming closer.

It was the day the TSYOG had long been waiting for.

**xxx**

**This'll all make sense. One day.**

**Just not today, and probably not tomorrow.**

**There's just a whole lot of foreshadowing and groundwork I have to do for this story before it can really take off. Until then, I'm probably gonna continue these sporadic short chapters where nothing happens that anyone can really understand.**

**PS. I'm _not _abandoning moemon.**


End file.
